


The Way It Hurts

by moonaboveus



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Crying Stiles, Dark Derek, M/M, Unhealthy Relationships, at least i think i'm allowed to use this tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2017-09-30
Packaged: 2019-01-07 05:54:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12227076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonaboveus/pseuds/moonaboveus
Summary: "I didn't mean to do that, I didn't want to hurt you."This time, he doesn't say. But Stiles knows.





	The Way It Hurts

Stiles whimpers quietly as he feels the force of Derek's thick fingers digging into his hips, right in the place where his shirt is ridden up a bit and revealing the pale, untouched skin as if Derek's making sure his touch will leave bruises afterwards when Stiles’ back hits the wall. His throat is tight and raw, barely allowing him to swallow, his eyes are trained on the older man's mysterious, yet beautiful face covered in a hard, intimidating expression, lips just a tight line, thick black eyebrows furrowed and nostrils flared in anger.

Stiles can feel the prick of panic bubbling deep inside of his chest, the desperate feeling of helplessness and anxiety trying to dig its way out, his amber, scared eyes filling with unshed tears as Derek's grip becomes stronger, rougher.   
  
"I'm sorry," Stiles squeaks, unable to control the waves of fear rolling out of him, his whole body practically vibrating, begging for help he knows he won't get. Not with Derek's muscular body pressing him into the white, scabrous walls, not with Derek's breath ghosting across his mole-dotted cheeks, not with his chest going up and down in an intermittent rhythm as his breathing is becoming harder and harder to control, not with them being the only ones in the dark room.   
  
Derek doesn't respond. In fact, Derek doesn't even look like he acknowledged Stiles' weak and choked off apology. His pale green eyes are burrowing into Stiles' whiskey ones, their noses and open mouths basically sharing the same breath. The smaller boy is shaking like a newborn deer, his lower lip wobbling, a few tears slipping out, rolling down his red face and wetting his cheeks. Stiles whimpers again, this time the sound sounding more pathetic even to his own ears.   
  
Derek smiles, almost softly as the pad of his thumb catches one of the many tears on Stiles' cheekbones. Stiles gulps, having no other choice but to let Derek touch him, do anything and everything he wants with him. In the end, it's not like Stiles and his gangly limbs and uncoordinated, clumsy movements combined with his brain flooded with fear stand any chance against Derek's broad shoulders, muscles and predatory instincts he seems to be overflown with.   
  
"Shh, baby," Derek hushes him, the hand that let go of his hips to wipe his tears coming up to his sweaty forehead where he carefully pets his brown hair, the expression on his face softening as if he just started realizing what he did.  
  
"I am so sorry, sweetheart," Derek says again, his voice husky, continuing to soothe him with his hand. "I didn't mean to do that, I didn't want to hurt you."  
  
_This time_ , he doesn't say. But Stiles knows.  
  
The smaller boy swallows roughly, saliva barely making its way down his throat. "I'm sorry I made you angry," he whispers desperately. "I swear I didn't - I would never - I didn't want to-"  
  
"Stiles," Derek interrupts him gently, his thumb and index finger tracing his plump pink lips in a gesture that's probably supposed to calm him down, but instead it makes Stiles' entire body tremble even harder. "I'm not mad. I'm not, all right? It's okay."

Stiles nods and sniffles, his chest still tight. He really didn't want to say those words out loud, he didn't mean to even think of it. It just kind of slipped out. Stiles isn't surprised though, this definitely isn't the first time the lack of his brain-to-mouth filter got him into some sort of trouble. 

 "I won't do it again, I promise," Stiles whines and Derek smiles, gifting him with a small peck on his lips. Stiles stares at him with a confused expression carved into his face covered in hot, salty tears as Derek marches away, his hands completely letting go. 

 Suddenly, Stiles feels insecure, wanting nothing more than to feel Derek's strong arms on him again, pinning him to the wall, his muscular, well-built body on top of his. It's strange to know that disappearing into the thin air and wanting the feeling of being so small and helpless in his own skin to go away isn't what he desires the most. 

 With Derek, he's a different person. Derek  _is making_ him become a different person. He isn't the scared, blushing boy avoiding people on the streets anymore, too scared to go out at night, stopped by a simple fear of the black nothing covering the town in a mysterious fog of darkness. He isn't the boy who wanted to feel powerful, fearless, who wanted not to be scared all the time. 

Derek is turning him into someone who enjoys it, someone who enjoys the vulnerability the man brings him, the constant scare and chills coming down and up his spine, the thrill of feeling like he's something that needs to be protected and taken care of. He's making him  _crave_  the pain, the despair. 

But the thing is - Stiles doesn't regret it. He doesn't regret it at all. 

Derek takes almost a careful step back and Stiles can feel his eyes on him, profoundly staring at him from the bottom to the top as if he's checking if his tight grip has made any damage on the lean body. Stiles' back is pierced to the cold wall. It's kind of like he's just waiting for a command so he can please and do as he's told, make Derek happy by obeying. 

"Let's go back to the others," Derek says in a low voice. Stiles can do nothing but silently agree and take the offering hand, their fingers entwining which makes Stiles' frantic heartbeat slow down. 

Because for some reason, no matter how many times Derek scares him, no matter how many times Derek humiliates him, no matter how many times Derek  _hurts_  him, he will always be Stiles' safe place, his home.

That thought doesn't even freak him out. 

Sometimes, Stiles feels like he's losing his mind, like he's been kidnapped and brainwashed and given a new view of the world and his surroundings. It's not normal to feel this way, he tells himself every day. It's not  _okay_  to feel this way. But who is here to stop him? 

Derek likes him and cares about him, why should he leave? Derek gives him what he wants and needs, Derek is here to keep him safe and make him feel like he's something beautiful and special, not a worthless piece of garbage that doesn't even have the ability to keep a simple conversation about weather going.

And Stiles likes him just as much right back, if not even more. 

Maybe it's love. Maybe it isn't. At this point, Stiles couldn't care less.

All he knows is that he needs Derek by his side and he doesn't want to let go. Ever. 

**Author's Note:**

> okay so i'm aware this doesn't have a plot and it's probably confusing since i didn't even explain what actually happened before this but i'm just gonna leave it open. let's pretend it's because i intended to do so and not because i'm a lazy ass bitch. i literally just wanted to write something with unhealthy relationships and this is what i came up with, so. i definitely wanna write something similar but longer and with an ACTUAL plot lmao.
> 
> ps: if you see any mistakes, please let me know, i'm not a native speaker.


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